


In the end, there is always hope

by Multifandom_damnation



Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Abandonment, Brain Damage, Broken Families, Canonical Character Death, Embarrassment, Episode: s03e19 The Once and Future Flash, Future Fic, Gen, Hand Feeding, Isolation, Loss of Limbs, Loss of Powers, Mood Swings, Past Character Death, Prison, Time Travel, Wheelchairs, a lead up to barry appearing in 2024
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-23
Updated: 2018-10-23
Packaged: 2019-08-05 15:17:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,332
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16370078
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Multifandom_damnation/pseuds/Multifandom_damnation
Summary: The ice was both a blessing and a curse- it numbed his nerves to the point of removing all feeling he could have had of it happening. A curse, because he watched his hands crumble to tiny chunks of ice mere seconds.





	In the end, there is always hope

**Author's Note:**

> So this is basically just a lead up to Barry appearing in 2024 to talk to his future self about Savitar. I thought that Cisco losing his hands really interesting and that it was a story that needed exploring. So here, a really shitty exploration of Cisco's life after he lost his hands to Killer Frost's ice.

The ice was both a blessing and a curse- it numbed his nerves to the point of removing all feeling he could have had of it happening. A curse, because he watched his hands crumble to tiny chunks of ice mere seconds.  
  
There was no pain- only the jaw-dropping cold. It didn't even hurt when he watched his fingers fall apart, dropping onto the forest floor as he screamed. He wasn't sure why he screamed- there was no pain. Maybe it was horror that Caitlin could do such a thing? Maybe it was anger at being useless? Maybe, he knew what losing his hands meant, and he was mourning the loss of his ability to be valuable his team?  
  
Regardless, Caitlin had fled deeper into the woods, leaving Cisco alone on his side in the dirt, staring at the frozen stumps where his hands used to be. It was too cold to feel anything but Cisco knew once the terror and astonishment and ice wore off he would be feeling it ten times worse.   
  
Later, Barry had found him, hair ironically covered in flecks of white snow and shaking in a curled up heap. He'd sped Cisco to S.T.A.R Labs and placed him on a gurney, where Joe and Julian and H.R tried to stop his shaking, covering him in thick blankets and large, woollen jumpers. He wasn't at risk of losing blood but going into shock could be fatal with such extensive injuries.   
  
Joe bandaged his arms silently as Cisco stared up at the ceiling, paternal worry written all over his face. Behind him, Barry roared and put his hand through a glass writing board and Cisco longed to tell him to stop, that he was alright, but he couldn't seem to fit any air into his lungs.   
  
When Cisco shook his head in frustration, trying to get the hair out of his face, H.R quietly came over and brushed it behind his ears. He sat down in the chair beside Cisco's bed and read him the book he was writing so long ago until Cisco's eyes dropped and his body gave into exhaustion.   
  
Everyone tried to offer him morphine, but Cisco refused. It didn't hurt, which was odd for someone who recently had his hands forcibly amputated, but Killer Frost's ice had frozen his nerve endings enough that he couldn't feel pain, just heartbreaking betrayal. 

It happened in the dead of night, late enough that everyone had mostly retired for the night and H.R had fallen asleep on his watch duty, arms crossed over Cisco’s legs and head pillowed on his arms. The ice had thawed, his nerves coming alight with a pain Cisco had never felt before, a tortured scream wrenching itself from his throat before he could stop it. H.R jerked upright and Julian had run into the med bay from the Cortex, rubbing the sleep from his eyes

Cisco tried to wrap his hands in the sheets just to have something to hold onto and ground him, but the sheet passed uselessly over the bandaged stumps and Cisco settled for kicking his legs against the footboard and the matrice as an outlet for the pain.

There was sweat on his brow and he felt dimly someone wipe it away. There were hands holding him down against the bed, and someone else shouting. There was whispered reassurances in his ear but Cisco couldn’t hear them, just felt his own blood pounding in his ears and the all-consuming realisation that he would never use his hands again.

Soon there was the crackle of lighting that usually brought Cisco comfort but this time did nothing. There was a panicked conversation and then his legs were pinned forcefully onto the bed, taking away his only outlet for the agony and he writhed harder as another set of hands joined his shoulders. Julian was running around the room, a glass beaker smashed against the ground, a Bunsen burner fell off its counter. H.R was wiping the tears away from his eyes. Was he crying? He must be.

It was Joe holding his shoulders down, Cisco realised, because nobody else would lay their head down into the crook of his shoulder and mouth reassurances against his skin and gently kiss just behind Cisco’s ear, giving him some kind of contact to focus on other than the stumps at the end of his arms batting uselessly against the sheets. Barry grunted as one of Cisco’s legs came free of his hold and kicked him in the chest.

A needle was placed in this arm and a plunger was pushed, a stream of cold- too cold, ice cold- liquid was shot into his body and Cisco screamed once again before his body betrayed his mind and he fell into blissful, painless oblivion.

Drifting in and out of consciousness, Cisco understood varying parts of a conversation, his friends all hovering over his bed many hours after they had all been woken up and summoned to him screaming.

“We can’t leave him like this.”

“We have to. What else can we do? Build him a new pair of hands?”

“You know, B.A, that might not be a bad idea.”

“Cisco and Caitlin are the only people who would be able to do that. And one of them is a crazed murderer and the other hasn’t got any hands.”

“Surely we can do something for him. He can’t be left in a bed all his life, depending on us to look after him.”

“Well, unless anyone has any better ideas, that’s the only thing we can do.”

“He’s going to hate that, Bar. We can’t just… keep him here.”

“What’s he going to do? Build himself some hands? He has no knowledge of biochem and the nervous system or anything that Caitlin can do. Are we going to convince her to help build the thing she purposely took away?”

“Jesus Barry. You’d think someone would be a little more sensitive to the situation.”

“Yeah well, Iris is dead. I couldn’t care less about what happens now, Julian, and I don’t know why you would either, now that we’ll have to lock Caitlin up in a cell for the rest of her life.”

Unable to listen anymore, Cisco’s consciousness dove deeper into the drug-addled sleep until not even dreams came to him that night.

Cisco reluctantly woke up to a warm spoon tapping against this lips and he cracked an eye open to see H.R sitting in the chair on the opposite side of the bed as the night before, grinning at Cisco with a bowl of chicken soup held securely in his lap. “Wakey wakey, Francisco. It’s lunchtime.”

Looking around, Cisco saw on the clock that he had indeed slept until the afternoon the next day. There was an IV drip in his arm. His tongue was heavy and his head was filled with the static he had come to associate with a high dose of morphine. “I’m not hungry.”

“Ah, come on Francisco, don’t be like that.” H.R tapped the spoon against Cisco’s lips until the temperature burned his skin and the metal spoon clanked on his teeth. “I promise I didn’t put anything questionable in it. I can’t speak for what Joe might have put in it though- he made it. I’m only a messenger. Now, open up.”

Resisting the urge to growl at him, Cisco closed his eyes and tried to breathe slowly through his nose. He desperately wanted to clench his fists or tighten them into the bedsheets, but after a forgetful moment of trying, he settled for gritting his teeth instead. “Listen, H.R,” He started measuredly. “I appreciate you’re trying to help and make me feel better and I’m grateful that you’re doing that, but I really don’t think I can keep any food down at the moment, and I really don’t want anyone to feed me until… after.” Cisco made the mistake of looking H.R in the eyes, full of sympathy and understanding, and had to look quickly away. “I don’t think it’s fully settled in yet. And besides, with all the drugs in my system, that’s a barf bath waiting to happen and I don’t want anyone to clean up my puke. OK?”

Smiling, H.R stood and placed a hand on Cisco’s shoulder. “I understand, don’t worry, I get it. I’ll come back later, alright? Read you more of that book. If you need me, just shout OK?”

“Yeah,” Cisco smiled back for the first time in too long, relieved that H.R wasn’t mad at him for the refusal and grateful that he understood. “Thanks H.R”

“Anytime my dear Francisco.” H.R bowed and tipped his hat before leaving the med bay.

Cisco opened his eyes a second time to a new person sitting in H.R’s vacated chair, a watchful eye trained on Cisco as he struggled to sit up, grunting in muted pain as he put pressure and weight on the new stumps his hands had become. The lights had been dimmed, making the room significantly darker than before, and Cisco could smell the distinct scent of Joe’s chicken noodle soup. “How are you feeling?” Joe asked from the chair, uncrossing his legs and leaning forward.

“As you’d expect,” Cisco muttered, a new bout of pain making his teeth clench, and he struggled uselessly to reach the morphine button. Unable to grab it, Cisco closed his eyes and sat absolutely still as he waited for the pain to pass.

Reaching over, Joe quietly pressed the morphine button and Cisco sighed as the pain dissipated into numbness. “H.R told me you didn’t eat lunch.” He said matter-of-fact, sitting back. The bowl of soup was on the coffee table but Cisco had a feeling it would be in Joe’s hands in a moment. “Any reason?” Cisco shrugged. “Come now, don’t be like that Cisco. We’re only here to help.”

“I don’t feel like eating.” Cisco shrugged, which felt weird not being to gesture with his hands. “And there are so many drugs that Julian has put into my body, who-“

“H.R tells me you said the except same thing to him.” Joe raised an eyebrow and damn it, H.R never could keep his mouth shut. “This wouldn’t happen to have anything to do with you not wanting us to feed you, does it? Or are you really not hungry?” Cisco opened his mouth to vote for the latter option but an incessant growl came from his stomach and he realised how long it really had been since he’d eaten. “That’s what I thought.”

Cisco shook his head, dislodging annoying strands of hair from behind his ears and Joe wordlessly moved it back. “Listen, Joe, I just don’t… I don’t want to feel like a burden to anyone, especially since I wasn’t there for Iris.”

“Listen here,” Cisco jumped at the sternness in Joe’s voice. It was full of emotion and barely concealed tears but it was firm regardless. “What happened to Iris was not your fault and you did everything you could to save her, even when Killer Frost dragged you away. And I am not going to sit here and lose another child just because you feel guilty, got it?” Cisco nodded, looking away. “Good. Now sit back and let me get some of this damn soup into you, or Julian is going to put a feeding tube in. Don’t look at me like that- he’s been talking about it since yesterday, it’s not my idea.”

Sighing, Cisco settled back against the pillows and closed his eyes, reluctantly allowing Joe to slowly feed him spoonfuls of warm chicken soup. When Cisco could hear the bottom of the bowl being scraped he opened his eyes and received the final mouthful before Joe placed the bowl back on the table. “You know, Cisco, there’s no need to be embarrassed by this. Especially not around me. I’m a father, I’ve been doing this for years and I’m not going to refuse for the son who needs it the most, OK? We’re going to help you, Cisco, even if it’ll take us a while to get over Iris if we ever do. But I promise we’re not going to abandon you just because you don’t have all your pieces, alright?”

Gulping down the emotions threatening to bubble up into his throat, Cisco nodded and Joe placed a kiss on his forehead before collecting the empty bowl and turning the lights off completely, going to fetch Julian for his shift.

The very next day, Julian began working on Cisco’s hands, using titanium alloy and complicated wiring that hooked up to his nervous system and fingers that move when Cisco tells them to. A week later, Cisco is presented them in a red velvet box like he’s being presented the key to the city and not a pair of prosthetic hands but Cisco feels great joy overwhelm him as Julian puts him under anaesthetic again and attaches them to where his original hands used to be.

He woke up with fingers that would flex and open and close when he concentrated and though they were a bit of an eyesore, made of bright chrome and extensive amounts of wiring, Cisco had never loved anything more in his life. H.R, with Julian’s help, began writing a user manual on how to care and fix them for whenever Cisco needs it.

Barry is scarcely seen around the lab the days following after his recovery, but when Cisco sees him next he is unwashed and still wearing his Flash suit, though Cisco knows he hasn’t left the lab, and he looks as bad as Cisco feels. “Hey man, how you doing?” Cisco is the first to ask, though he isn’t sure how he feels about it. “I’m sorry about Iris. I should have been there.”

Shrugging, Barry walks into the med bay and shuffles to the counter where Caitlin had categorically organised their stock of painkillers. He takes down a random bottle, shakes a few into his hand and downs them all in one go. Cisco doesn’t tell him to stop- he knows that normal painkillers don’t work on Barry and that upping the dosage to an amount that would kill an ordinary person was the best they could do. Though, Cisco wasn’t sure whether Barry’s pain was physical or emotional. “There’s nothing you could have done.” He says finally, voice rough from underuse and screaming. “But thank you for trying, anyway. I’m sorry I didn’t know you were gone. If I had noticed a little earlier I would have been able to stop her from...” He waved his hands absently at Cisco’s situation.

“Yeah, well. There’s nothing you could have done.” Cisco smiled, but even to himself, it’s shaky around the edges. “I would have turned on the distress signal once she froze me and left but you know.” He wiggled his new metallic fingers at Barry, both unused to and revelling in the way they jingled and clacked against each other. “Need fingers for that.”

Chuckling without humour, Barry made his way to the edge of the bed and rested a hand on Cisco’s arm, the Speed Force keeping him warm but lack of sleep and sunlight had left his skin cool to the touch- an odd combination. “I’m sorry I haven’t been to see you lately, to check up on how you were doing. Some friend I am.”

Cisco resisted the urge to agree with him but instead, he just shrugged and reached up to pat the hand on his shoulder. “You’ve been grieving. That’s alright, I understand. I mean… in a way, I suppose I am too.” He dropped his hands into his lap and stared at the shiny steel digits, both breathtakingly beautiful and horrifyingly hideous at the same time. “I don’t think we’re ever going to get Caitlin back now, not after whatever Savitar did to her.”

“Can I ask…” Barry tapered off, seemingly regretting the question as soon as he started it, but Cisco raised his eyebrows and Barry continued. “Does it hurt more that your hands are gone, or that it was Caitlin who took them from you?”

Closing his eyes, Cisco rested his head heavily against the wall behind him. “I just can’t believe she would do something like that. You didn’t see her, Barry. She knew exactly what she was going to do like she had it all planned out. Like she took joy in it.” He shivered involuntarily. “Do you think she’s ever going to come back to us? Do you think she’ll ever be Caitlin again?”

Instead of answering, Barry sighed and patted Cisco’s shoulder before letting it slid off and to his side. “I should let you rest. I’ll come by and see you again later, alright? Just… focus on getting better and try not to think about it too much.”

Barry left Cisco in the silence of the med bay, alone in the darkness and Cisco has never missed his friends so much in his life.

Julian knocked on his door days after, eyes digging holes into the floor and Cisco immediately knew something was wrong, but chose not to comment on it. “I thought you’d like to know that Caitlin has been apprehended. You won’t be seeing much of me around, I’m afraid.”

“What- why, what?” Cisco was suddenly terrified of losing someone else, not after Caitlin, not after Iris, and hell even Barry was lost to him now. “Where are you going? Is Cait alright? Julian, I can’t-“

When Cisco blinked Julian was suddenly in the room, running a comforting hand up and down his arm, careful of the metal hands that were still sensitive on the stumps. “Slow down mate, it’s alright. Caitlin’s fine, she’s just been caught by the police. They’re putting her in a secure cell in Iron Heights. I’m going to be her keeper, Cisco, to keep an eye on her. Surely I understand.”

“I do, I do,” Cisco tried to regulate his breathing and calm in down from the wild panic. “I get it. But you’ll be coming back, right? Once she gets better?”

Nodding, Julian’s face was full of something that Cisco couldn’t identify in his drug-addled state, the pain numbing morphine still pumping strong through his system. “Yeah mate, I’ll be around once I get time off but understand that I’ll be very busy. And you’ll have the others around to keep you company, remember? H.R and Joe and Barry?”

Releasing a breath, Cisco nodded, tears in his eyes that he didn’t bother hiding. “Yeah, ok. You take care man, and take care of our girl.”

Julian stuck out a hand and Cisco gladly took it, trying not to think about how he couldn’t feel the heat of Julian’s skin or his pulse when Cisco’s finger passed absently over it. “I would think nothing else.”

He’s eating a jelly cup in a chair- the first time he’s been out of bed in too long- when Joe walks in, no spring in his step and looking more worn out than normal. “Hey, Joe. How’re you holding up?”

“You know, as well as I can.” Joe sits on the bed across from Cisco, a mirror of the time they spent after Iris’s death and sighed as he rubbed a hand down his face and took off his hat. “Beth is still settling in but I know she’ll be great in helping me take care of Wally. I just don’t know how much more of this I can cope with, Cisco. I know it’s no use complaining to you but sometimes I just feel so lost.”

Cisco placed the jelly cup on the table beside him. “You can always come to me Joe if you need someone to talk to. Oh, that reminds me- how is Wally? Is he holding up alright? I haven’t seen him around since that night. Starting to really miss the kid.”

It was as if all the soul was sucked out of Joe’s body. He aged 10 years. His bones turned to dust. His shoulders slumped. “Barry… didn’t tell you?”

“Didn’t tell me what?” Cisco asked urgently, sitting up straighter in his chair. “What’s wrong with Wally? Is he alright? Joe-”

“No, he’s not alright,” Joe said and suddenly his voice was shaking and full of turmoil, tears falling down his face. “He went after Savitar, Cisco. _Alone_.” Cisco could feel all the blood drain from his face. “Savitar broke his back. I found him late the next day. It was bad, Cisco. It was so bad.” He covered his mouth with his hand as he sobbed. “He’s in a wheelchair and he hasn’t spoken or moved in months. I don’t think he ever will. I’m too old now and I need someone to help me take care of him. I can’t even take care of my own son…”

As Joe tapered off, Cisco felt a flare of fire ignite itself in his chest. “Why didn’t anyone tell me? Can I go see him?”

“Cisco, you can’t, you’re still not well enough to leave the lab.” Joe protested and Cisco knew he was right. “Wally won’t even know you’re there, anyway. There isn’t much use. I’ve been spending more time at home than I would like, trying to take care of him. It’s better for me to be there. You don’t need me here.”

Cisco desperately wanted to object, _no, that’s not true, I need you here, you’re all I’ve got left_. But instead, he smiled up at Joe and nodded in support and understanding. “Of course Joe, spend time with Wally. I’m sure he appreciates it. Don’t worry about us here, we’ll get by and if we really need help we’ll let you know, OK?”

Joe stood, nodding and shaking off any lasting emotions. He pointed a shaking yet insistent finger at Cisco. “I expect to see your face around my home all the time, understand?”

“Joe, as soon as I get better, you’re gonna start getting sick of my face with how often I come by.” He fist-bumped Joe and the former officer left the room humming the song that Cisco knew he used to sing to Barry and Iris when they were children, scaring all the monsters away from under their beds.

Cisco is in the Cortex with a mug of coffee, trying to get used to carrying heavier objects in his new hands, when H.R runs into the room and drags Cisco away. “We need to go.”

“Why?” Cisco asked, confused, and then all the lights in the Cortex are abruptly cut off. Cisco pauses and yanks his hand out of H.R’s hold before spinning around to face Barry, his Flash suit discarded somewhere around the lab, his hands in his pockets. “Barry, what’s going on? Did the power grid fail again? Hold on, I’ll go fix it.”

There is a large white tarp in Barry’s hands and he throws it over the darkened console before stepping around it, closer to Cisco than he’s been in weeks. Beside him, H.R looks down and away but Barry isn’t focused on him. “Go home, Cisco. There is no more Team Flash, I’m shutting us down.”

_But this is my home_ , Cisco wanted to object, _it was mine before it was yours._ But Barry’s gaze is unwavering and instead, Cisco looks at him with a quivering lip and hands shaking so hard that the metal twitches and asks, “Why?”

“Because the Flash is dead.” Barry’s voice holds no emotion, nothing but pure emptiness. Not something Cisco had heard from Barry in a very long time. “He died with Iris. I’m not doing this anymore, I refuse. Go home. Spend time with your friends. Just don’t ever come back.”

Cisco doesn’t even get a chance to argue before H.R grabbed Cisco and yanked him away from Barry, away from S.T.A.R Labs, away from the only place Cisco has ever truly called home and onto the open street. “Well, that went better than expected.” H.R laughed, placing a hand atop his head to prevent his hat from flying away in the chilly winter wind. “Oh well. Who needs them, right? It’s you and me, Francisco, against the world!”

And Cisco was about to believe it too, until a week later a pretty woman caught H.R’s eye and he had excused himself from the table before their coffees had arrived to follow her up the stairs at Jitters, leaving Cisco to finish and pay for two coffee’s alone before leaving the store by himself. A week later, he’d gotten a text from H.R, apologising and asking for a raincheck. Cisco agreed and they hadn’t seen each other since. A month later, H.R’s book came out, and Cisco brought it at the store, texting his friend to tell how much he loved it.

He’d only received a heart in response.

His apartment had been destroyed during Savitar’s attack, and when Cisco entered it he was greeted with the sparking of electrical wires against leaking plumbing, wooden boards and shards of glass and fragments of plaster walls were scattered all over the ruined carpet and pulled-up floorboards. With no money and no more friends, Cisco had no choice but to pick his way into his bedroom, find a set of clean sheets and a warm blanket and wrap himself in them as he fell asleep waiting for the winter to pass.

The winter brought stronger winds and colder weather. It took Cisco very little time to realise that cold temperatures and metal hand don’t mix, neither does metal hands and the public eye of scared children and paranoid parents. When his fingers stopped moving as fluidly as they used to and the cold gave him nightmares of a time months before, two old friends fighting in a forest.

All his clothes had been ruined so for too long Cisco had walked around in a t-shirt and jeans. He had nothing to fix the problem. Late at night one unbearable winter, Cisco had quietly wandered down the streets in search of something warm. There was a Salvation Army bin around the back of a store and Cisco dug through it until he had found a pair of gloves that he could use to keep himself hidden and a grey cardigan that was big enough to fit him and to wrap himself in.

On his way home, Cisco put on the gloves and smiled as they went over his fingers, changing his appearance completely and making him feel just a little more normal.

Beth lets him into the house with a grin and a nod, telling Cisco that she would be upstairs if he needed her. Joe had already told Beth that Cisco was coming, but Joe wasn’t here himself, instead spending time at Iris’s grave and placing yellow and purple flowers at her tomb.

Wally is in the living room, mouth and eyes open but not seeing anything, barely breathing. It hurt Cisco to see him like this, the lively speedster reduced to a wheelchair-bound dream. Cisco sat down in front of him, one hand on his lap and the other hand reaching up to wrap around Wally’s colder hands. “Hey Wall-man, how you doing?” Cisco didn’t expect a response and didn’t get one. “It’s really good to see you, no matter what.” Wally stared expressionlessly at the wall. “You know; it’s been really lonely without you. Julian left to take care of Caitlin, Joe left to take care of you, H.R left to take care of himself. Barry… he’s lost, Wally. Like Caitlin, I don’t know if we’ll ever get him back.” Cisco brought both his hands to his face. “It’s been so lonely without all of you.”

A sudden burst of inspiration hit Cisco and he took off one of his gloves. “Hey man, did Joe tell you what Caitlin did to me the night Iris died? Well, Julian helped me fix the problem.” Raising his hands to Wally’s line of sight, he wiggled his fingers and took joy in the way the metal creaked. Wally was an engineer like him, he knew how to build things and how they worked. Even in a state like this, Wally would subconsciously appreciate the work. “Cool, huh? They don’t shoot lasers or lift super heavy things but I can still build and make and help people. So I suppose it’s a win.”

There is silence for a moment and Cisco dropped his hands back to his lap and stares at Wally thoughtfully. “I wonder what you saw, man. I mean, fighting Savitar on your own? That’s brave and stupid so I guess one of us is keeping the team’s values alive. I understand why you did it, Wally, I really do, but I just want you to know that if you had ever called me for back up, I would have been there, hands or no hands. Who cares about Barry, right? We don’t need him. I have enough guns and weapons to blow Savitar to the next world.”

Unsurprisingly, Wally doesn’t answer, so Cisco smiles, stands, and pats him on the shoulder. “I’ll come by a little later, ok? I need a warm place to stay for a few hours,” He joked as he left the room.

Cisco jumped as he saw Joe standing on the other side of the wall, shoulder pressed against it and face contorted into pain. “You’re all alone now?” he asked, voice low, “Everyone really has left you, huh? I would have thought H.R would have stuck around a little longer but he always has been one for the ladies. At least you always have me and Barry, right?”

“At least I always have you,” Cisco corrected. “I don’t think Barry’s Barry anymore Joe. Hell, he kicked me out of S.T.A.R Labs and told me to never come back.”

Joe sighed painfully, like something sharp was lodged in his chest. “I knew Iris’s death would change him. Where are you staying now, Cisco?”

“My apartment, it kind of got trashed in the attack but it’s still standing.” Cisco shrugged like it wasn’t a big deal. It wasn’t one to him- he was just glad to be alive. “I’ve been staying there. It’s still got most of the roof and the bed is only broken on one side so it’s still liveable for a while.”

“Cisco, nobody should have to live in conditions like that.” Joe shook his head and looked Cisco with something akin to love, to worry, to heartache. “You could always stay here? We have space and if you really don’t want to be alone anymore-“

“Joe, it’s fine.” Cisco holds up a hand. “If it really bothered me I would have come to you ages ago. I’m serious- I’m ok. Just… take care of yourself.”

Cisco left through the door, not seeing the way Joe closed his eyes in silent pain and rested his head against the wall, face turned to Cisco’s exit as the cold wind blew snow and dirt and pain through the momentarily open door.

It takes Cisco a while to realise what happened, too long in his opinion, as he suddenly walked through his bedroom door and stopped dead. He hadn’t had a vibe in months- a new record for someone who often woke up from nightmares of possible events. Fearful, Cisco thrust his hand out towards one of the crumbling walls and waited for a vibe blast to shoot from his hands, but nothing came. The same result happened when Cisco tried to open a breach. Desperately, Cisco scoured his apartment for any resemblance of his old life, any trinket of his friends, and finally found one of Caitlin’s spare sweaters tucked away in a closet for the rare occasion that she slept over and had forgotten a change of clothes.

Holding it tightly in his hands, Cisco concentrated and willed with all his might to show him Killer Frost, wherever she may be, but he wasn’t transported to any other location, his world never turned blue and when he opened his eyes he was still in the middle his wrecked apartment. Defeated, Cisco sunk down to the floor, brought his hands to his chest and sobbed until his chest ached and he couldn’t breathe and he begged any god who would listen to give him this one thing back.

If any god was listening, none answered him.

It didn’t take long for Cisco to snap after that, the silence in his home and the roaring in his head too much to handle. The long sleepless nights in his dilapidated apartment with nothing but the sound of constant police sirens outside his broken window to keep him company began to drive him mad, the solitary keeping him quiet and alone and desperate.

Julian was the first person he’d approached, pouring the leftovers of Killer Frost's uneaten meal into a bin. “No mate, I’m sorry, it’s not going to work. I can’t leave Caitlin or my job for some useless hero’s quest. Go bother someone else, like H.R or Joe. Unlike some people, I have important work to do that cannot be abandoned.”

Next was Joe, now adorning a set of glasses on the bridge of his nose, but who shot him down just as quickly as Julian. “I’m sorry Cisco, but no. I have to be here for Wally. I wish I could but I don’t know if I can even set foot inside that building without remembering what I’ve lost. All my children are gone, Cisco. Even Barry and Wally. I’m sorry, I just can’t do it.”

H.R didn’t even bother picking up his phone to answer his phone calls or reply to his many text messages.

Reluctantly, Cisco made the long weary trek to the abandoned S.T.A.R Labs and noticed that Barry had been very busy- metal gates were put up all around the building, yellow police tape lined the doors and warning signs had been placed. Ignoring it all, Cisco picked his way through the path he had travelled most of his life and to the door of the Lab and the S.T.A.R museum H.R had apparently closed down during their time away. Reaching the glass door, Cisco saw that the inside was just as damaged and ruined as the outside.

Before he could reach up to press the button on the microphone, a voice rang out from the tiny speaker near Cisco’s ear. “I knew it would be you who would come first, Cisco. I know why you’re here. But it’s not going to happen.”

“But Barry, Central City needs the Flash and I-" Cisco protested but was stopped from continuing when he was interrupted. 

Barry’s voice was cold and unwavering. “The Flash is dead Cisco and Barry Allen might as well be too. And what could _you_ possibly want from me?”

Cisco paused and surprisingly, Barry waited for him as he mulled the words over. “I need my best friend back,” he whispered finally and from the static of the speaker he could hear the shuffling of Barry’s feet and a sharp intake of breath. “I know you’re grieving Barry but I’m all alone now. Caitlin has been locked up and Julian is taking care of her. Joe is looking after Wally. Who the hell knows what’s going on with H.R. And it’s been… hard, being alone all the time Barry. But we need you to come back to us because I need Barry Allen just as much as Central City needs the Flash.”

There was silence on the other end of the line as Barry breathed deeply through his nose while he listened to Cisco’s words and despite his best efforts, Cisco found himself praying that the Barry Allen he knew would come back to him. “Go home, Cisco.” was the final verdict and Cisco felt himself deflate. “There is nothing for you here anymore. Don’t come back.”

Turning around swiftly, Cisco walked home stiffly as tears brew in his eyes and fell down his cheeks, but when he reached up to wipe them away, he wasn’t sure if they were really there at all once they had sunken into the fabric of his gloves and hit his hands that did not feel.

The news proclaimed the loud declaration that the Flash had abandoned Central City and had left it to rot at the hands of Mirror Master and Top, named in spite by Cisco himself, and he watched the live footage of the previous night’s bank robbery, Top glancing at the front line of officers and collapsing them on the ground in a nauseous heap before Mirror Master delicately grabbed her hand with the one not holding a big brown bag full on money and leapt into a window, disappearing from plain sight. Cisco sighed and turned off the TV, longing to be of some use to his city but knowing deep down that he would never be of any use to anyone ever again.

Savitar had been trapped within the Speed Force prison Barry had apparently created, helped by the scientist Tracy Brand. Cisco watched it on the news from the safety of his bedroom, the very idea of Barry Allen helping anyone in need a myth to him now. He can’t help but feel annoyed- it was such an anticlimactic and quick ending for a dramatic villain who had terrorised their lives for years. Maybe that’s all he deserved, Cisco reasoned as he sipped a cup of coffee, a quick death for a speedster, always too fast for his own good.

“You know Wally, I can’t say I don’t envy you, just a bit,” Cisco said from his place on the floor, one arm crossed behind his head and the over across his chest as he lied on his back and stared at the spinning ceiling fan. “I mean, if I could take your place in this I would. Nobody deserves to in this state, but especially not you. You’re too good to be reduced to… this.” Wally blinked, Cisco’s words falling on deaf ears but he ploughed on. “But I would be lying if I told you I’d take your place just to help you. I mean, if I was in your place, I wouldn’t know all the people who were abandoning me and forgetting about my existence.” He chuckled dryly. “I wouldn’t have to put up with knowing that all the people I care about are all living in the same city as me but they’re so far away, you know? And hell, maybe if I had taken your place, then maybe Joe would be happy again and I could help the people I love one last time.”

Cisco was forced to ignore his tinkering and special inventions to pass the time in favour of taking a screwdriver to his own hands, the cold harsh temperatures stiffening up the metal joins, the wiring often turning frayed and brittle with extended use. Now that Cisco had his hands, he could very easily make himself a new, upgraded set that was less likely to fail when Cisco needed them most, a set that he didn’t have to hid behind thick gloves and deep within the pockets of his cardigan.

But if he did replace them, shelving his current pair somewhere in a drawer while he lived life with his new set, he would lose the last thing Julian ever did for him, lose the only thing he and his friend had in common except their love for the woman who used to be Caitlin Snow, and Cisco wasn’t sure if he could lose anything else of his time before.

“Hey Iris,” Cisco greeted as he rested his hand on the top of the tombstone, dusting off the dirt and dead leaves that had accumulated there since Joe last visited. On the floor, yellow and purple flowers were lying by the stone and a box filled with rubber bands was starting to overfill. “Sorry that it’s been so long, I’ve been… busy.” He placed the red rose he held on the top of the tombstone. “But you know, better late than never, right?” He sighed. “God, how I miss you. How I miss all of you. I don’t know what I’m doing with what’s left of my miserable life without all of you.”

The wind whistled in the trees and the leaves shook in the silence. “You know, you always were our boss. After Barry was taken by the Speed Force. I always thought of you as one long after that.” He chuckled and drummed his metallic fingers against the stone. “If only you were here right now, Iris. If anyone could talk some sense into everyone, it’d be you. Especially Barry and Joe. I think they need you more than anyone at the moment. And Wally- you should see him, Iris. Savitar killed you both that night, but at least he fought with you in his heart. And he’s still fighting, Iris. He’s still fighting for you. You would be so proud of him.”

Turning away, Cisco shoved his hands in his pockets and resolutely did not turn back around to stare at the slowly receding gave hiding the strong, proud woman buried six feet under the dirt.

H.R’s second book comes out sometime during the beginning of summer and Cisco is one of the first people in line to get it signed. He waited for too long considering the small number of people willing to get up so early to get their books signed. The reason why is quickly realised, however, when a pretty blonde woman in a red summer dress and wide-brimmed hat walks out of H.R. Jitters with a book clutched to her chest. The line moves much swifter after that.

To Cisco’s dismay, H.R doesn’t even look up as the book is placed on the table and he flips it open to the front page and scrawled a message in thick black ink. The book it handed back to Cisco with a smile and as H.R finally glances up his eyes widen and his mouth falls open in surprise. “F-Francisco? What are you doing here?”

Cisco shrugged and tapped the book with one hand before tucking it under his arm. “Getting an autograph from my favourite author.”

“It’s been so long! How have you been holding up?” H.R asked, getting comfortable in his chair and giving Cisco a weary once over. Cisco could only imagine how he looked- greasy hair tied up into a bun because he couldn’t bear the thought of cutting it, skin pale and gaunt from lack of food, cheeks pale from the constant cold, woollen clothes moth-eaten and unravelling as Cisco toyed with the hems. Honestly, Cisco couldn’t find it anywhere within himself to care about what H.R thought about him. “God, it’s nice to see you.”

“Mm.” Cisco hummed, looking around at his once favourite coffee shop, now tarnished with H.R’s face and name plastered on every available surface. “I… love what you’ve done with the place.”

“Thank you, thank you, it was really all my idea.” H.R laughed, waving his arms about. “Everyone thought it would be a terrible idea but business has been booming since the changes.” He turned back to Cisco with a kind yet inquisitive smile.  “I have to be honest with you, I wasn’t expecting you to come. Why not just buy the book like everyone else? You don’t need to wait in line for an autograph from me because you know me as more than just an author! You’re my friend, Francisco, and if you had just asked me to come over, I would have signed it without the wait!”

“Yeah, well maybe I just wanted to see my friend in person one last time before he forgot I existed,” Cisco said bitterly. “I mean, there’s only so many missed texts and phone calls someone can ignore before it starts becoming obvious.” Turning around, Cisco ignored H.R’s pleas and apologies as he stormed out the door, book in hand. When had Cisco ever become a bitter person? Maybe it had happened sometime between losing his willpower and losing his sanity.

It had almost happened too fast for Cisco to process at first, but he knew the streak of yellow/red lightning like he knew his own name, and it was headed to the old, long destroyed loft Barry and Iris used to share a lifetime ago.

When he made it up there, Cisco could hardly believe it. But no, it wasn’t his Barry, his Barry was broken and battered beyond repair. This Barry was anxious, yes, but determined and bright and strong and _young_ and all the things Cisco’s Barry wasn’t. It was obvious that he was from the past- 2017 once Cisco had done his math- and if he was here, it was for a reason. Maybe he had come to help Central City? To help reunite the team? But no, whatever it was, it had to wait until after he had spoken to his future self.

So Cisco, in his desperation, quietly tinkers on the device during their trek to S.T.A.R Labs and completes it while he waits on the Cortex for the Barry’s to speak. He didn’t mean to be selfish but he knew all about time travel, knew how it worked and knew that Barry would return back to 2017 at the exact same time he left and honestly, Cisco just wanted to spend one day with a friend, even if it was a friend from the past, who had no idea of the horror’s he’s endured.

And Cisco gets that one day, even if it’s never what he expected it to be. He walks with Barry and delivers him to all the people he wants to see- Julian, Joe, Wally, Caitlin- and sits close by, listening to the painful conversations of a time Cisco remembers vividly but Barry is only just experiencing. The rejection from Joe is brutal, Julian’s rebuttal is as cold as Killer Frost’s taunting, and the look on Barry’s face as he sees Wally in his wheelchair is like a punch to the gut.

It nearly broke Cisco to see the betrayal on Barry’s face once he had come clean with the device and his cruel trick to get him to stay. It surprises Cisco that there is no anger or hatred in his voice, just calm curiosity. So when Cisco expects Barry to leave and he ends up beside him in the Cortex, it feels like old times, metal hands and no Caitlin be damned. Barry brings them all to S.T.A.R Labs, H.R as well, and it feels like there is electricity crackling around the room from something more than Barry’s lightning. When H.R searches for his drumsticks and comes out of a mountainous pile of papers with them successfully gripped in his fingers, Cisco knew they were all going to be ok.

But even the Flash losses a few battles and takes a few hits, and the biggest surprise of the day is _his_ Barry voluntarily leaving the Time Vault and immediately volunteering to help his past self. Cisco smiles for the first time in eight years, truly smiles, and Barry smiles back like there was no time lost between them and speeds off in the rush of crackling electricity and the blowing of papers off of desks that Cisco has missed _so much._

When they return, Barry is smiling and hugging Joe and laughing with H.R and winking at Cisco as if nothing had changed between them, and when Cisco closed his eyes, he could almost believe that it was true. Cisco walks away first, reluctantly, but to begin setting up the Cortex and the Pipeline and all the vital veins of S.T.A.R Labs. He doesn’t care that both Barry’s are alone in the Cortex, talking about their dead love and the man who took her, but his Barry is back after all this time and all is right in the world.

Then Cisco is seeing the past Barry off, the past Barry who is much different from what Cisco remembers but still has a spring in his step and a kindness radiating out from him like a beacon in the dark. Cisco reaches his hand out to shake it in farewell, internally sighing because he knows he won’t be able to feel the first touch of his friend in eight years, and Barry says, _“I’m going to do something to fix that,”_ and is embracing Cisco and Cisco can _feel_ it, can feel Barry’s body heat and the tightness of his arms around Cisco and he leans desperately into the hold. “ _You’re too good of a superhero to lose those powers.”_ And Cisco can only nod, not trusting himself to speak.

Because maybe Barry can prevent Caitlin from taking his hands in a tundra- can prevent him from losing his powers. Maybe, in the past, Barry can get to Cisco before Killer Frost freezes his limbs to solid ice. Maybe Cisco will be better. Maybe, they will save Iris after all, and Caitlin will never get the chance, and Cisco will leave those woods unscathed and safe.

Barry leaves and zooms back to his time and Cisco is left with a spark inside him, something he hadn’t felt in a long time, a reassurance that everything was going to be alright.

Cisco, for the first time in eight years, had hope.

**Author's Note:**

> I don't really know what happened to Wally in canon but I tried to be really sensitive to the situation and the correct terms and stuff so if there is anything I did badly or tags I didn't add for it, let me know and I'll happily fix it up.


End file.
